Whole
by ribbonelle
Summary: In which Dave finally understands troll romance, and decides that he doesn't like it.


i said id never leave you  
but come on what are you  
new?

i kneww all along ok  
i kneww youd leavve someday ivve alwways fuckin knowwn dont you DARE SAY IM NEWW TO THIS BECAUSE IVVE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH SHIT YOU DONT EVVEN  
fuckin  
knoww it

i hate you

oh are we flipping now  
is this what it is eri  
cant have me red so youd settle for me black  
i didnt know you loved my dick so much you couldnt get enough of it can you

CRUNCH.

The noise is loud and sickening, and the next thing you know is that blood's dripping down your face, drops splattering onto the floor. You smile inwardly because you know he didn't hold much back. You love him more because of that and for fuck's sake, are you sick.

"Okay, no, seriously Dave," he laughs before clearing his throat, trying to gain a sense of seriousness, "If. If, okay note the I and the F right there. If you ever had to choose between a scarf and a cape, which one would it be? And please take the full sense of irony, that's where the challenge is, innit?"

You pretend to think it over, taking the chance to twirl your fingers around the ends of his own scarf. Pausing a few more seconds for a dramatic effect, you turn to blow cold air onto his fins. You never get tired of the way they flutter. It's pretty in your eyes. "Scarf. Because even if capes would score top marks on the ironic scale, one; it tips too much on the 'plain dumb' side and two; it's your thing babe. No one can pull it off but you."

A roll of eyes and a snort of disbelief is issued, and he turns as well to give you that grazing kiss he does when he's annoyed but still thinks you're lovable. His teeth barely slides on your forehead and he pauses to give you another kiss, more lips than razor blades this time around. One more kiss. And then again. You laugh the moment you feel tongue on your skin, and you lay an arm over his waist, rising an eyebrow.

"Frisky much?"

"Shh, don't ruin it," A few more kisses and he's mouthing at one side of your lips, and you let him get away with that remark. Because Eridan leading wasn't as often an occurrence as you would have liked it to be, and that hand sliding over your boxers seem really insistent.

Ruin it. More like let-your-hand-dip-further-to-grab-his-ass-and-get- this-going-it or something, you've lost your track of thought there since he gasps into your mouth after you cop a feel of him and proceeds to straddle you and do exactly what you need him to

If love was a word that you could use to keep Eridan Ampora then you would use it. Ten times over. A hundred times over.  
The best thing is that it's probably true.

TG: shhh  
TG: baby boy shhh  
TG: youll be alright just come to papa dave ill tuck you under my wing an give you some lovvin aight  
CA: no for fucks sake i am not havvin some  
CA: stupid yellowwblood got awway wwith callin me a dickprince ok  
CA: like fuck i am im goin to havve sols head on a stick an thats it  
TG: thats painful right there isnt it  
TG: eridan chill  
TG: you know how double dicks is he can go choke on a nintendo cartridge for all we care hes always goin to be the asshole he is and having his head on a stick  
TG: no matter how tempting isnt really going to change anything  
TG: you know what i mean  
CA: i knoww but still  
CA: itll be at least fuckin satisfyin for me  
CA: hes a fuckin idiot an i fuckin hate him

Your fingers hovered over the keys, pausing at the purple text on the screen on your phone. It's nothing unusual, Eridan's whining about some dick move his arch-nemesis made and it's his typical daily angry typings concerning said troll.  
It's the first time he's ever said he hated Sollux, though. You've heard death threats and musings about creative ways of torture but never really the word hate. Hate was a form of troll romance, and that's a thing you knew. Vantas has drilled all four types into your head way back when you first met him, and for once you're wondering what exactly is blackrom.

Is your boyfriend black for another troll? Is your boyfriend romantic, to be more accurate, for someone else?

CA: anywway lets just drop that im goin to hurl if i say another wword about that piece a shit  
CA: is it my turn to pick you up or is it the other wway around  
CA: wwhat day is it evven jegus fuck  
CA: fuckin sol captor puttin me off my groovve  
CA: i demand you make me feel better because its wwhiny bitch day for me  
CA: davve?  
TG: sorry love had a phone call  
TG: but whatever my baby wants for sure you got it  
TG: my turn today ill see you in 15  
CA: mm good could alwways count on you davvey  
CA: unlike some fuckin people  
CA: see you soon  
CA: 3

He logs off right after the text heart and you stare at the screen for a while more, mind working in all directions. What is this called again? Matespritship, yeah. He's your matesprit and you are his. He loves you and the two of you (dare you say) make love, and you love him right back.

He still has freedom to hate someone, to fuck that person he hates in a definitely consensual manner, and to have someone hate him just as much back, and have a relationship based on it. Kismesistude. How could you forget?

The realization of that possibility was a hard punch to your gut, and things couldn't have stayed the same no matter how bad you wanted it to be.

You won't have it. He's to remain yours and only yours and you swear on the grave of your dead brother that you are going to make that happen.

Red and black has always been your favorite colors. In addition of your newfound love for purple.

His grip hurts you most of the time, digging into you as if you're some sort of pincushion unlike before. His purple eyes glare at you with the most furious look he could muster, and he snarls at your teasing, instead of moaning or uttering pleases. He comes like it kills him to submit to pleasure, biting his own lips till it bleeds purple, brows furrowed as if he'd like to make his disapproval permanent.

And yet there are times when he falters, hands desperately reaching up to grab your face and to touch your hair. Fingers trailing down your shoulder blades to pull you down and kiss you like you'd break if he got any rougher. Moments when his pupils dilate and he whispers your name like he used to, and gasps 'I love you' into your neck as he paints the both of you purple.

It never lasts long enough. The longest you have ever let the two of you bask in 'red feelings' was till the next morning. He'd wake up with sleep-encrusted eyes and smile drowsily at you, noting you already awake. You always wake before he does. You get to watch him before it all goes to hell. He'll lean to kiss you by reflex, lazily trailing his lips over yours as a wish for good morning. You'd close your eyes just slightly, savoring it, then you bite on his mouth.

Hold for a few seconds and he'll remember. He would shove you away, turn to the other side to rub at his eyes (once or twice you're sure he's crying but it's nothing you can help with) and he gets off the bed. You'd slip on your shades, and the day would return back to normal.

Eridan hates you. You've said and done a lot of things that lead to that, and he loathes you for what you did. He also loves you, for everything you've shared and all the memories you've had in the span of being with him before your revelation. Five months of loving, and you realized you couldn't have him wholly if you just kept with the loving.

He's yours now. Every inch of him, his heart and his soul are yours. All the crevices of his mind are filled by you and you alone, whether it concerns love or hate and everything in between, you are there. You've done to him what he's done to you, and you won't say you regret a thing. Because you don't.

You have him, and that's all that matters.


End file.
